


to be a king beside you

by tightropeofhope



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Cliche, Fluff, Harry Styles Has a Crush on Louis Tomlinson, Harry Styles is Marcel, Louis Flirts, Louis Tomlinson Has a Crush on Harry Styles, M/M, Minor Zayn Malik/Liam Payne, POV Louis, Prom, harry is a nerd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-10 09:14:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11124213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tightropeofhope/pseuds/tightropeofhope
Summary: Louis grinned at Marcel and said, “Pick me up at seven, yeah?”Then Louis fixed the glasses sliding off of Marcel's nose and winked before leaving without another word escaping the other man's pretty mouth.—•—Harry Styles is a huge nerd who actually looks like a model. Oh, and prom is near.





	to be a king beside you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wildestargirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildestargirl/gifts).



> First ever posted 1D fic! Title taken from a poem I wrote once. This is not brit-picked and only edited by me, so any of the mistakes are mine and mine alone. Since this is a prom fic, imagine Harry in his white floral suit but with his current haircut. Thank you to Harry Styles' recent pap walk and fan pics with his glasses that reignited my love for Marcel and inspired me to write a fic. Also thanks to the gc because y'all are wonderful to my self-esteem and are great motivators lol ([J, my lovely wife,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildestargirl/pseuds/wildestargirl) ilysm).
> 
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc., are the property of their respective owners. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Marcel Styles looked like a gigantic nerd. He does look pretty: rather gorgeous eyes, nice lips, a lean physique, and a voice Louis wanted to drown in. Too bad it was covered by clunky glasses, insanely gelled hair, and several layers of tweed (not that tweed was bad, it was just too much if both his trousers and his suit jacket and his vest and his tie— well, point made). It wasn't at all a surprise when he got made fun of by the 'popular' kids. Marcel just rolled his eyes and walked away and Louis had to give him props. For such a geeky exterior, Marcel might actually be somewhat of a badass underneath all that tweed. The popular kids were stereotypical assholes that inhabit the school. Louis, in all honesty, thought that the cliques were cliché and outdated. They were all mostly in sixth form and stereotypes were such a bore. No one will care whether or not you were popular in high school in the real world. Also, Louis was a footie player and main lead for the drama department; he was a regular _High School Musical_ Troy Bolton. Except for the not playing basketball thing. And being a Brit. And the whole gay thing as well. He does have brown hair and blue eyes, so he counted that as a similarity.

Louis would usually make friends with Marcel, but he always seemed to slip from his fingers. Every time he went to talk to the other man, he suddenly disappeared, his long legs making even longer strides as he walked down the hallway. Louis thought Marcel was a bit of an introvert, so he left him alone after that. That was until prom drew closer, creeping until it surprised him with its intensity. Well, it wasn't it the only thing that surprised him.

Main reason? Marcel Styles.

Marcel actually came towards him and asked him to prom in that velvety voice of his. Louis couldn't deny the man who looked that nervous, hands twisting together and white teeth biting those pretty, pink lips. Nope. Couldn't deny Marcel at all.

And that's how he got date. Louis grinned at Marcel and said, “Pick me up at seven, yeah?”

Then Louis fixed the glasses sliding off of Marcel's nose and winked before leaving without another word escaping the other man's pretty mouth.

When he retold his story to Zayn, he just raised an eyebrow, lips quirking just slightly. “Marcel Styles? The kid who ran away every time you looked at him?”

Louis laughed. “Yeah, mate, I'm surprised too. Don't mind though. I have a feeling he's proper hot under those layers.”

Zayn snorted and said, “I bet.”

Louis decided to ignore the sarcasm laced beneath his words because he was wondering where to get a suit while Zayn started talking about Liam— his other mate and Zayn's blatant crush. He'd thought that with model-like features and the bad boy, tortured artist aesthetic, he'd have enough guts to ask Liam out. Instead he pined. Louis half listened to the conversation to watch Marcel eating at the table with his Irish friend, Niall. Marcel laughed loudly, white teeth glimmering, eyes crinkling at the corners, and dimples deepening— and oh, _shit_ he was fucking screwed.

Dimples. Who fucking knew it would be such a turn on? Louis needed a wank. Or to rip the stupid tweed off of Marcel's body and kiss every inch of exposed skin.

No, Louis will wait patiently to kiss that stupid, pretty mouth because he was a gentleman.

* * *

 A car had been lurking outside his house for a good twenty minutes now, not that Louis was particularly worried. He knew it was Harry the moment the sounds of soft rock quickly faded out and he had to grin. Early _and_  had a great taste in music. The moment his watch read seven o'clock, a knock sounded his door. He fixed his suit jacket and fiddled with his tie for a second before he opened the door.  
  
Then he proceeded to gape.  
  
Marcel Styles was fucking hot. Gone were the glasses, the tweed, and gelled hair and in came green, green eyes, a white suit covered in a black floral pattern, and wild, curly hair. Holy shit, were those tattoos peeking out of the tip of his tie-free dress shirt? He was fucked.  
  
Well, hopefully.  
  
“Styles, you clean up pretty well,” Louis said, attempting to sound decent when in reality he was drooling.  
  
“Call me Harry,” Not-Marcel said. Louis raised an eyebrow and nodded slowly. He explained, hands clasped in his front and fingers twiddling, “My first name’s Harry, my middle name’s Marcel. I got made fun of a lot when I was younger because of it so I went by Marcel.”

“Well, _Harry_ _Styles_ sounds like a dream to me,” Louis teased, fingers playing with the lapels of the other man’s suit, and he saw Harry’s cheeks flush pink. He wondered if that pink spread down to his tattooed chest. He cleared his throat and said, “Shall we? I promised me mum I would take pictures later, since she’s busy with the girls.”

Harry’s gaze should be illegal. It was burning him to the core and Louis had no escape— not that he wanted one. Green eyes had never been more attractive in his life.

“Louuuueeeh,” Fizzy yelled, accompanied by a hoard of feet stomping towards him. He left go of Harry just in time for his girls to crash into his body. Lottie glared at him and he rolled his eyes, arm outstretched for a cuddle and she caved. Lottie said, “Can’t believe you were just gonna leave.”

His mum started, “Sorry, love, you know how they are.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he replied and gestured to his date. “This is Harry. Harry, this is my family.”

Harry grinned, dimples cratering and effectively charmed his entire family. He shook every one of their hands and introduced himself. His mum’s eyes were twinkling at him and he coughed and glanced at the floor.  

“I know I said you could take pictures when you’re there,” she started, hand reaching for her camera, “but you’re already here and both of you look so dashing.”

Then the camera started flashing and Louis felt like a famous pop star with the amount of pictures his mum took. They quickly said their goodbyes before they walked out the door. Or well tried to because Harry, the endearing dork, had tripped and almost fell flat on his face of it weren’t for Louis’ strong hold on his waist. They safely made it to his car in one piece before they were off. The drive wasn't that long to the venue and Louis filled the empty silence with his words as well as the radio softly playing in the background. Harry was so wonderfully funny and likable that Louis wanted to smack himself for not trying hard enough to become his friend earlier on. He missed out on stupid puns and a pretty mouth smiling at him for  _years_. He was understandably frustrated, but he lost that train of thought when Harry's hand intertwined in his at a stoplight. 

Louis would've commented on the smoothness of the move if his heart wasn't beating like a horse on the run. Harry's lithe fingers fit perfectly with his smaller ones and he  _melted_. He brought the hand up to his lips and kissed Harry's knuckles, hands still locked. Harry bit his bottom lip, preventing a wide grin from spreading across his face when he realised that they arrived. He was slow to let go before he hopped out of the car, dazed and a bit starstruck. 

He told Harry, “Hey, I’ll be back, okay? Stay here though, I don't want to lose you in the crowd. I just need to find me mate.”

Harry nodded and leaned against his car, making Louis stop and admire the view. For someone who tripped getting out of his house, he gave off such a graceful aura. God, Louis was _so_ ready for prom. Who wouldn't with a model-looking date by his side? Before he left, he placed his hand on the back of Harry’s neck, fingers playing with the little, loose curls, and gave him a soft kiss on his jaw. He winked at Harry’s shocked expression, then bounded off to find Zayn. It didn’t take him long to find him. He just followed the gaggle of girls and guys staring wide-eyed at the clean-cut all black suit Zayn sported, hair tousled into a messy quiff. Zayn smirked and shouldered Louis. “Where’s your date, Louis?”

“Hey, I should ask you where yours is,” Louis retorted, standing on his tiptoes while he looked for Liam’s broad physique. “He’s by the car. C’mon.”

“I still don’t see him. Did he ditch you or something?” Zayn observed, eyes glancing lazily over the scene. Louis furrowed his eyebrows. There were literally only a few people here: Harry and the group of girls getting out of their car. A wide smile stretching across his face and he dragged him over to his date. “Zayn, meet Harry Marcel Styles, my pretty prom date. And Harry, meet Zayn, my best mate.”

Harry smiled, closed-lipped, but still beautiful. Louis’ wanted to scream into the empty air. It was completely unfair how gorgeous they both were. He was pretty sure he didn’t live in a GQ magazine. What water did they drink and where can he get some?

After they started making small talk, they made their way over to the tables and Louis lost Zayn to Liam. Not that he minded. More time alone with Harry was time well spent in his opinion. As they were being served their meal, he took the time to take in his surroundings. The venue was rather lovely. It was more of an enlarged ballroom than anything, but given the fact that their theme of the year was ‘turn back the clock’, this type of vintage feel was to be expected. Then Harry grew quiet and concern grew inside of him. He started looking around and realised that everyone in the vicinity was staring at them, well staring at Harry more like. And not in the usual menacing, idiotic ‘what a nerd’ way. No, their stares looked more stunned and... _interested_. Louis wasn’t at all surprised at their attention; Harry was a wonder to look at. Actually, he was surprised that they didn’t notice him earlier on.

“Hey,” Louis started, gaining Harry’s attention, and he nudged his elbow gently at him. “You aren’t gonna leave me for them, are you?”

“Of course not!” Harry exclaimed, grabbing Louis’ hand with a frantic look on his face, and he chuckled. “They were rude to me ever since I got here and you’ve done nothing like that—”

“I’m kidding, sunshine,” he consoled, rubbing his thumb over the back of Harry’s hand. “They were dicks to you. Let’s show them what they were missing.”

In a beat Louis was on his feet and dragging Harry to dance. But fate seemed to have it out for him because the DJ lowered the volume of the music and announced, “Hey! It’s time to announce the prom king and queen! Let’s gather around the dance floor everyone.”

As the majority of the students shuffled over, the DJ began listing the prom court. Louis tuned him out for bit in favor of murmuring jokes into Harry’s ear, making the other man giggle underneath his breath. He saw Niall in the corner of his eyes and motioned him to come closer.

“Hey, Tommo,” he greeted, white teeth shining in the dimmed lighting.

“Nialler, how’s your evening coming along?” Louis asked.

“It’d be better if they served me a pint if I’m honest,” Niall admitted. “But are you taking care of my Harry over here? Harry, looking good there, lad.”

Harry rolled his eyes and Louis smirked. “He’s been attracting all sorts of attention. Got a model over here.”

“— please welcome your prom queen and king, Perrie Edwards and Louis Tomlinson!” he announced while the loud cheers rang through his ears. He was engulfed into a hug by Niall and Harry, then Niall started shouting, “Out of the way! Tommo the King’s walking through.”

And to no one surprise but his, they parted and created a walkway for Louis to reach Perrie, her red dress striking and bold. She grinned at him and said as someone placed the sash over their outfits and a crown on their heads, “Hey, Louis. Don’t mean to be a bother, but can we skip our dance? I promised my boyfriend him the dance if I won.”

“No problem, Pez,” he agreed and gestured to Harry talking with Niall. “I have a prince to dance with as well.”

“Good on you, Lou,” she said, grinning, and when the DJ put on a slow song, they grabbed their respective dates. He could tell Harry wasn’t expecting this by the way his eyes widened and he began to splutter excuses. Harry gave up when Louis still dragged him into the spotlight near Perrie and her date. He placed his arms around Harry’s neck while Harry’s arms fell on his waist. He still felt the tension Harry radiated and he let go of him for a second to take off his crown. Louis placed the crown on top of his curls, smiling as Harry’s eyes shone and his lips wobbled. He whispered, “Here, you can be my king.”

“Promise?” Harry asked.

Louis smiled and leaned into Harry’s space to give him the softest kiss. “Promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Send me prompts on my [tumblr](http://tightropeofhope.tumblr.com/) if you want!! There's also a [post](http://tightropeofhope.tumblr.com/tagged/we+are+found+in+the+spaces+between+our+fingers) on there if you want to reblog <3


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